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Montage Moments is a page of blog postings about a variety of subjects, thoughts and opinions..

The Table Is Home

8/13/2013

4 Comments

 
    When we first moved to the farmhouse, we needed a large kitchen table for our fairly large family (6 of us) and our large kitchen. We had a Duncan Phyfe table for the dining room, but since most meals would be eaten in the kitchen, we wanted a sturdy table. Tom went to an auction for some tools and came home with a kitchen cupboard, the kind with a flour sifter and a granite worktop, and a table. 
    The table wasn't exactly what I had in mind. It had originally been used in a dining room, I believe, and not a kitchen. It was a rather unique design; one I had never seen before. Instead of having leaves or boards that fit in the middle when the table was pulled apart, this one had an attached board on each end that fit under the tabletop. When they were pulled up, the table was 7 feet long. Okay, I could live with that.
    Over the years, that table was put to good use. The kids did their homework there, they played games on it, we ate every meal there. It was used for cooling homemade bread, canning fruits and vegetables, cutting material for sewing projects and every other project you could think of.
    As the children grew and brought friends home with them, the chairs began to fall apart. There has never been a teenage boy who did not lean back in a chair and balance on the back legs. They would play cards or just set and talk; always at the table.
    On Christmas Day in 1983, one of the coldest days in IN history, our house caught fire. It was all smoke damaged, but the kitchen, the only part of the house that was one-story, had no roof and everything was damaged.
    
Picture
    All the white stuff you see in this picture is ice from the fire hoses. My kitchen didn't really look like this before the fire.
    The table was not burned, but was definitely water-damaged. It was taken, along with everything else in the house, to a restoration shop. Six months later, when we could move back in, the table was returned. It felt like I was seeing an old friend again.
    It continued to be used for every occasion; parties, birthdays, playing cards with guests, even for grandchildren to eat cupcakes.
    
Picture
    This table was the only table my children and grandchildren identified as the "table." In other words, if I said, "Go put it on the table" they knew which one. Finally the day came when I sold the farmhouse. There was no room in our apartment for such a heavy, long table. And besides, There was only Kalisha and me to set at a table to eat, so it had to go. My daughter, Kaylynn, could not bear for it to be sold, so she took it to her house. She and her family moved a few times over the years, but they always took the table. It was, like me, beginning to show signs of wear and tear. The chairs had been pitched a long time ago, but the table remained. It was in her dining room and not used very often, as they almost always ate in the kitchen.
     It made me sad, sometimes, to see it without chairs and the finish was gone on the top of it. It looked tired. When Kaylynn and her husband down-sized due to kids growing up, there was no room for the table in their new place. She asked me what I wanted her to do with it. My first response was to sell it. Then I said she should keep it in storage since it really was an antique. She and the other kids have so many memories of that table, it was almost unbearable to think of selling it.
    Finally, I had my son-in-law bring it to my garage until I could do something with it. I didn't need it; I had a beautiful table. Maybe I could have it refinished and sell it. I stored it in the garage all winter and spring. I knew it would eventually end up in my house again. I sold my big table to my Amish friend. Then I used a suggestion I read on Facebook to put some oil back into the wood. Finally I had my grandson (one of the little boys eating cupcakes and now nearly 20 years old) help me bring it into the house.
Picture
    I felt like the world was back in the right order again. I know it is foolish to be so attached to an inanimate object like a table; however, it holds so many years worth of memories, and after years of being displaced, it has come home.
    I believe that is how it is with our lives. We move from one place to another, we become scarred and broken, our 'finish' becomes dull. But when we finally go home to our heavenly home, we will be like new again and all will be right with our world.
    Until then, come visit one day and we will set at my table and have a chat and a cup of coffee.
4 Comments
Sara
8/13/2013 02:22:46 pm

Gloria, This is an excellent piece of writing. I almost felt like I was settin down right in your dining area as you told the story. You have a great ability to capture your listener's ear--me this time. After my husband passed away in March, one of my brother-n-law's wanted to get a new table for me. Mine was so very old and worn.. It had set out in the weather for about a month when we moved from our home in the country. Our sons, foster sons and their families moved us because my husband was in the hospital at that time. I went back to the old country home to make sure that anything I wanted would be transported back for me. Long story short, I found a gentleman to bring the table to our new home for me. Once I got it home, I had to clean it up really good so that it would be clean. Well, I was surprised to see the varnish come off. My youngest son said, "Mom, it doesn't matter because you usually have a table cloth over it anyway. We had the table in our home for a little over a year when my husband passed away. When my brother-n-law tried to persuade me to get rid of it and get a new one, my son would not have it. He said, mom, I love that table, I grew up with that table. I knew he meant that it was the memories of family and loved ones setting around the table, especially his dad who even when he could not fit at the table because of his electric wheelchair, that his presence was there in that room gathered together with his loved ones.

Thank you for writing your story Gloria.

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Gloria Doty link
8/13/2013 09:17:43 pm

Thank you so much Sara for commenting and sharing memories of your table with me. My table had no finish on it any longer, either. I used 1c. of Canola oil (I don't know why it has to be canola, but that's the recipe) and 1/4 c. of vinegar. Mix well and apply to your table. It won't have a shine, but it is a nice finish. You don't even need to wipe it off; it soaks in and dries. I wish you many more memories made at your table. Blessings.

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Barbara Langley Fischer
8/13/2013 11:58:58 pm

You DO have a gift...I always feel like I am right there with you when I read your writings. This is a wonderful memory, and I have a feeling that there are MANY other people with table memories. ... our daughter has the table from my grandmother, who lived in Harlan, Indiana. It is the table that all the relatives ate at every Sunday. You never knew how many would be there, but there was always enough food, and always 'room for one more'.

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gloria doty link
8/14/2013 04:25:46 am

Thanks Barb. Yes, tables seem to evoke so many memories of EVERYTHING: eating, talking, arguing, playing, planning. They all end up in our memory banks don't they?

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